Patience
by Ariadne Bassarid
Summary: It's uncomfortable for a doctor to be the sick one. Especially when Hatori usually controls his thoughts so carefully. HatorixTohru


**Patience**

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_Here's the fic request Britt (aka luvinaoshi) made off me, like, forever ago. Fine! Here it is!_

_Excuse my fangirl Japanese. It's not even consistent! I have my reasons for that, however. And yes, I know - I was just complaining how I hate sick fics, right? Well, there's a difference, namely: I wrote mine. No, kidding. These characters have a history with illness. Ie, here, Hatori is a Doctor. Thus, it's not just a plot device. Illness is not a plot device. So, enjoy._

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Something delicate and cool was laid across his forehead. It slowly coaxed him awake. Hatori opened his eyes to see Tohru's concerned face above him, and he blinked. "What are you doing here?"

Tohru smiled softly, but the look in her eyes was serious. "Looking after you, Hatori-san."

It was then Hatori noticed his ceiling had changed. So had the room, in fact. That wasn't his bedside table, and he didn't have a long mirror on one wall. He changed tactics. "…What am I doing here?"

Tohru removed her hand from where she had been checking the doctor's temperature, and Hatori's hair fell back across most of his face. Tohru bit her lip, watching it form a soft black curtain across his eyes. Hesitantly, she reached out again and brushed it back away.

"You're sick, Hatori-san."

Hatori grunted in response. Evidently. That would explain why the room, with its curtains drawn, seemed so bright – and it would explain the ache in most of his body.

"It's only influenza," Tohru reassured him. Then she smiled, brightly. A little too brightly, if Hatori was any judge. "Don't worry! I'll nurse you back to health in no time!"

Hatori closed his eyes again.

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Something wasn't right.

"I'm not supposed to be here," he mumbled.

"Hatori-san?" It was Tohru again. What was she doing here? Had she been here while he slept? And how long had it been - what time was it?

"What time is it?"

"It's morning," Tohru responded. "Would you like something to eat or drink?" She sounded hopeful.

It was only then that Hatori noticed his throat felt like someone had run a rake across it. He finally opened his eyes again. Yes, it was Tohru, and she was sitting on a chair beside his bed – no, he reminded himself, looking around. Not his bed. Was this Yuki's room?

"Water - "

Tohru leapt off her chair and stood in front of the bedside table. Hatori turned to watch as she carefully poured for him – the carafe clinked slightly as she made sure to rest the it on the edge of the short glass, preventing spillage. When she turned to help him drink, Hatori shook his head – and briefly saw small bursts of light. Nevertheless, he attempted to push himself up onto his elbows. The muscles in his shoulders and upper arms seemed to slowly burn, but he succeeded in raising himself a little.

He frowned. He hadn't been hit this hard by the flu since he was a child. But then, he knew that it wasn't uncommon for adults to experience more harsh effects than the younger ones.

To his frustration, the water in the glass shook slightly as he sipped at it. Tohru watched with some anxiety. She seemed far too concerned. He was sure he shouldn't be so sick. He was a doctor, afterall. There seemed something wrong with the whole idea. He passed the glass back to her, and despite the way the room seemed to dip and loom, attempted to push back the covers.

"Hatori-san! You need to stay in bed!" Tohru's small hands again quickly pushed them back up over his pyjama-clad torso.

Hatori frowned again. True, patients needed rest, but – "Doctor," he muttered.

Tohru nodded. "A doctor came to see you, Hatori-san, he said you'll be fine if I take good care of you." She had that determined glint in her eye - that stubborn pout to her small, pale pink lips. Tohru was quite dangerous when she had that look on her face, Hatori knew.

But he couldn't rest. "No, I need to go. Akito - "

" - was the one who threw you out of Sohma house and onto our doorstep," Shigure's voice interrupted. Hatori blinked. Shigure was standing in the doorway, leaning on the frame, his arms crossed over his chest. Had his cousin been there this whole time? Or had he just missed Shigure's entrance?

"I – what?"

Shigure uncrossed his arms and entered the room. He pushed Hatori's shoulder gently but firmly, forcing him to lie back down in the way Tohru had been too respectful to.

"He threw you out in order to preserve his own health. Seemed quite adamant that you stay away until the last traces of illness had vanished. So just lie back and relax, while our temporary nurse takes care of you."

Tohru smiled reassuringly. "Don't worry, Hatori, you'll be better in no time…"

So this is what it felt like to have a doctor make you stay in bed. Hatori grunted unhappily and wanted to argue the point, but his eyelids were repeatedly closing themselves.

"Tohru, leave him for a little while and come downstairs for breakfast." Hatori didn't need to actually look to know that Shigure would have his arm across Tohru's shoulders, gentling ushering her towards the door.

"But Shigure-san, Hatori needs - "

"Haa-san needs to sleep, and you need to eat. This way."

Hatori heard the door close. As sleep began to overcome him again, he heard voices move down the hall.

"Is he better yet?"

"Yes, Kyo, he has made a miraculous recovery! In fact, he's even better than he was before! It must be a sign! Tohru's healing powers are a gift from the - "

"Shut up!" the other voice responded. "I just want to know how fuckin' long Yuki is going to be in my room, is that too much to ask?"

Someone stomped down the stairs.

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It was hot. Far too hot. Hatori heard himself moan – and then suddenly, someone's cold hands were at his shirt. He shot upright in bed, struggling for breath. Hatori found himself staring into Tohru's large, green-blue eyes – only inches away from his own.

"Tohru?" he found himself asking, uncertainly. What…?

Abruptly, Tohru's hands released the pyjama shirt someone had dressed him in – she'd already undone the top two buttons. She stared at Hatori. "You're burning up," she whispered, and extended one hand as if to brush his forehead again. It hovered in the air for a moment, and then she retracted it.

Hatori stared back, slowly realising his top was drenched. She was right. He tugged at the last few buttons himself, undoing them and pushing the wet fabric off his chest. Immediately, he felt relieved as the cold night air hit his bare skin. He coughed, slightly. Great. He could think of slightly better situations in which to be this close to Tohru and covered in sweat – and then his own eyes widened.

If he could even put that feeling into a coherent thought, he really wasn't himself.

"I just - " Tohru said, a little louder this time, "I was worried; you were burning up! And I didn't want you to transform in your sleep because of the fever - no one would be here to put you in water and then you'd really be in trouble and it would be my fault for not caring for you properly!"

"Tohru - " He tried to interrupt gently, but his throat was sore and her name came out clumsily for the second time. Hatori reached for the glass he knew would be beside the bed, still. He sat back, and Tohru seemed to realise she was still inappropriately close – she stared at his exposed chest for a second, the cotton shirt framing it, its collar upturned around his angular face. Then she blinked and jumped backwards along the bed, putting a little more space between them. It was dark, so he couldn't be certain, but Hatori thought surely she would be blushing.

"It's alright, Tohru," he tried again, and that found words came much more easily this time. "The older jyuunishi are better at controlling their transformations under this kind of stress."

In the darkness, Tohru bit her lip. "But Ayame-san - "

_Ayame-san is a pervert_, Hatori was tempted to reply, but chewed down the words. "Aya is the exception as a cold-blooded reptile." Save that talk for another day. Or better yet, another person – he certainly didn't want to have to be the one to explain why Ayame sought sanctuary in Tohru's clothing at every opportunity. "Please don't worry, Tohru; I'll be fine."

"No!" Tohru interjected. "Hatori-san, you have to take this seriously! You're very sick! The flu can be - " Still sitting opposite him on the bed, she dropped her head as if trying to remain calm. Her long brown hair hung down, and then suddenly, though remaining bowed, she turned her eyes upward. As she looked out from behind her hair, he could see that they were spilling over with tears. When she finally spoke, her voice was choked. "Please, Hatori-sensei, I have to look after you so you get better again! Please be a good patient!"

Hatori found himself at a loss for words. He already knew he wasn't in the most coherent mood. As Tohru tried to swallow her sobs in front of him, he found himself wanting to pull her closer and reassure her – but of course, he couldn't do that. Instead, he settled for a smaller contact.

"Tohru." He slipped his hand through the soft screen of her hair, and titled her face towards him. With his thumb, he brushed away the tears on her cheek. She was so small; it seemed for a moment he could cradle her whole head like this. "I promise, I will be fine. The jyuunishi are strong."

Tohru nodded in his palm. Her lips trembled, and tears still threatened to rush out of her eyes.

"I promise," he repeated. "And I'll try to be a good patient from now on."

Tohru ducked her head quickly. "You are a good patient, Hatori-san. You've been here nearly a week and you've hardly complained." Tohru paused, then quietly amended, "But you must let us take care proper care of you."

Hatori felt his lips part in surprise. Nearly a week? His fever must have been high indeed if he could barely remember waking in that time. And of course in order not to transform, his body would have been desperately urging him to remain unconscious to avoid any more stress on itself. No wonder poor Tohru was concerned, given her past experiences with such a common but potentially serious illness.

Hatori watched the girl's face. She stared at him earnestly, and he began to realise that although Tohru hadn't noticed, he had held her face in his hand just a little too long. He pulled back, and involuntarily glanced away to the side.

"Tohru, it's very late. You need to go back to bed."

Tohru stood. "Goodnight, Hatori – I'm sorry I disturbed you."

"It's fine, Tohru," he replied, wishing he could say something a little warmer to her. But what was there to say? She nodded and pushed some of her hair behind her ears, sighing softly. As she left the room, Hatori began to pull the damp pyjama shirt off entirely – it wasn't good to leave it on or he might catch a chill. The cool air would do his fever good, anyway.

As he balled the top and threw it to the floor, leaving himself shirtless, he glanced upward, catching Tohru's eyes – they stared at him for just a moment longer, still concerned, a tad flustered, as she closed the door. Hmm.

He lay back in bed with a sigh of his own, then pulled up the covers a little, to just above his navel – and then he stiffened.

"…Was that Haa-san I heard?"

"Shigure-san! What – you - it's very late!"

Hatori grunted. Apparently time only seemed to matter to Tohru when someone else's wellbeing was at stake.

"I was making a call to the little writer's room," he said lightly, "I don't think that's unreasonable."

"Oh! I didn't mean to pry." She sounded a little tired. Shigure must have noticed it, too.

"What are you doing awake, Tohru?" The dog's voice became more gentle.

"I – I couldn't sleep and went to check on Hatori."

"You know, you won't be a very good nurse if you work yourself sick, Tohru."

Tohru paused, then admitted, "I know."

"Come on, let's go to bed." Shigure's usual, carefree laugh burst forth. "Oh, I mean, let's put _you_ to bed, Tohru dear – although -" he paused calculatedly, as if thinking. "I suppose the other interpretation would have its merits…"

Tohru laughed nervously. The hall light went off.

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"Thank you for looking after me," Hatori said – to Shigure. He straightened his suit jacket, relieved to finally be up and about in his normal clothes. His legs were stiff from two weeks of disuse, and he quietly clenched and unclenched the muscles as he stood, bidding his cousin goodbye.

"Why, Haa-san, are you sure that you're recovered? I'm sure Kyo and Yuki wouldn't mind sharing for just a little longer…"

Loud protests were heard. So loud that Hatori could hardly follow what they were – though he did catch Yuki shouting, "Filthy socks!" and Kyo screaming something about "Sleep-punching!" And a lot of the word 'pervert'. He shook his head. No. He didn't want to know. Even if he did feel a little shaky, he could only take so much time in this household.

Shigure walked him to the door, and for a moment clasped his elbow. "It's good to see you in full health again, Hatori. You did have us worried for a little while, there."

Hatori refrained from saying something uncomplimentary about suitability of Shigure's house for a recovering patient. When he'd finally begun to spend long stretches awake, Yuki and Kyo's shouting – not to mention the outrageous flirtatiousness of Shigure which often provoked that shouting – had began to frustrate him in the extreme. He was surprised he hadn't developed a twitch, forced to lie prone all that time.

"And I'm sure Aya-chan will be thrilled to hear you can now go about life as normal! Why, I bet he'll be dropping by just as soon as he finds out…"

Hatori glared at Shigure. "A little time to prepare myself before that, please?"

"Of course, Hatori. Perhaps I could _distract_ him for you in the meantime!"

Incorrigible.

Shigure's face once again assumed its 'serious' expression. "Good luck back at the main house, anyway – I hear Akito has been giving his replacement doctor hell…"

Of course he had. Anything else would be thoroughly unlike Akito.

"Are you sure you're ready to go back? Akito did say that if you were still sniffling…"

"I'm not sniffling." Hatori responded. Not much, anyway.

"Alright, then. Drive safely."

Hatori finally made it out of the house and back into the spring air. He noted that during his hiatus, the trees had burst into blossom. It seemed they too were finally recovering from an unseasonable period. He climbed into his large black car, grateful that whoever it was that had dumped him on Shigure's doorstep had thought enough to at least leave that for him.

He made it down Shigure's long driveway – driveway, he thought not for the first time, was a ludicrous term for the private road – when at the entrance, he was surprised to find Tohru standing with her two friends, the three of them carrying shopping bags. Her mouth was for a moment circle of surprise - but that was quickly replaced by a wide smile. Hatori saw her wave at him as he approached, and reluctantly stopped the car in front of the girls. Arisa and Saki – he struggled for a moment to remember their names – also waved at him cheerfully. Tohru handed the other two most of her bags and gestured that they should continue without her. They moved off down the tree-lined road with only a single backward glance from the blonde, while Tohru ran around to the driver's side. Hatori reflected briefly that it would be an interesting turn of events in Shigure's house if Tohru's friends barged in before she caught up to them.

Tohru beamed at Hatori – he opened his door for her, politely.

"Hatori-san! You're well enough to go home today?"

He nodded, hands still on the wheel.

"And you were leaving without saying goodbye," she teased him.

Hatori nodded again, actually feeling a little ashamed. It was awkward, however. He wasn't used to thanking people for something so important, and Tohru had clearly given up much of her time to look after him. It must have cost her in worry, too. And yet she clearly wasn't too disturbed that he had been going to leave without thanking her. She was a mystery, in many respects.

"I'm just glad that you're better! Well," she bent down slightly, bringing her face closer to his own and gazing at him from an equal height. "I bought lunch for you at the store! It's nothing much, but please take it with you for when you arrive home." Tohru pushed the shopping bag into the car, eagerly.

Hatori's gaze remained steadily on her smiling face. "That's really not necessary, Tohru."

She looked disappointed. "Oh. …Oh! But you would have eaten it at Shigure's house, right? So you might as well eat it at Sohma House, because it doesn't belong to anyone else!" Her smile returned; she was obviously pleased with her logic.

He considered, looking at the small white box in front of him, in its almost-sheer plastic grocery bag.. "All right." He accepted it, his fingers brushing hers ever so slightly. Tohru didn't seem to pay that much mind. He placed the bag on the empty passenger seat next to him.

"Thank you, Hatori. I'll come visit soon to make sure you're looking after yourself." Her tone was firm. It was the Tohru there was no arguing with. She seemed like she was about to stand and walk away, and almost before Hatori realised he was doing it, he reached out again and stopped her. He brushed her cheek lightly with the back of his fingers. Her eyes seemed to shift with surprise, changing from a grey colour to a clear, crisp green.

"Thank you, Tohru."

Hatori let his hand drop to the keys in the ignition, and started the car up again.

"You're welcome," Tohru managed to stammer as he revved the engine once, and reached for the doorhandle. Realising she was in the way, she stepped backward. Hatori pulled away, and checking the traffic outside the gate, he zipped out onto the main road with only the automatic glance he always gave the rear vision mirror. In the background, Tohru had recovered and was waving him off with yet another broad grin.

Tohru's determination, he decided, was perhaps not as dangerous as her smile. He resolved to concentrate on his driving.

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_Please review and let me know what you think. I think I'll make another chapter or two…_


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